


And They Rise

by randomwriter57



Series: makoharu week 2016 [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Gen, M/M, Vignette, but also dancey dance, dance au, i will write more for this au i swear, not really romantic just very platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomwriter57/pseuds/randomwriter57
Summary: As a child, Haru isn’t interested in much. But then, the music begins to play.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Some amazing people decided to set up makoharu week 2016, so I decided to join in. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone's creations!  
> This fic is yet another part of that ballroom dance AU I wrote a [reigisa week fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5699326) for in January. This one stars makoharu! It's more of a prologue, really. I think this series will work in one-shots. In any case, it's a series of vignettes following Haru as he begins his ballroom journey. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Written for [MakoHaru Week 2016](http://makoharuweek2016.tumblr.com/), Day One: AU.

As a child, Haru isn’t interested in much. His parents worry about him when he spends all day sleeping or staring into space instead of playing with his toys. Sometimes he draws, but never for long. It just doesn’t pique his interest. For a while, Haru’s parents worry that he’ll feel out of place when he grows up, not having any special interests.

When Haru first meets Makoto, Haru isn’t all that interested in him, either. He’s a baby at the time, too small to take in any of what’s going on. He drools a little as he looks at Haru, eyes wide. Haru ignores him - or at least, he tries. It’s difficult when Makoto keeps grabbing his sleeve and poking at him. They’re only months apart, but it feels like much longer.

 

* * *

 

A year later, Haru likes something. When he firsts listens to music, played from his mother’s CD player, it makes him happy. He doesn’t know how to react, so he watches his mother. She dances around the kitchen, singing along and tapping her feet. After a while, Haru starts tapping his feet, too.

The next day, when Makoto and his mother visit, Makoto watches Haru as they listen to the CD again. Their mothers are cooking together, laughing and chatting as their children watch from their high chairs. Haru taps his foot a little. It’s completely out of time with the music, but it makes his mother smile. Makoto imitates Haru, thrashing his feet around. His mother has to steady his chair to keep it from falling.

Haru doesn’t smile. Makoto still doesn’t seem to interest him much.

 

* * *

 

In the year they turn three, Haru and Makoto dance.

It’s not so much dancing as moving their feet and shaking their hips, but it makes their parents laugh. Neither of them take much notice. Makoto laughs and smiles at Haru and his parents. Haru doesn’t laugh, but he smiles a little. His parents breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, he seems to be interested in something.

And, as though an added bonus, when Haru smiles, it’s at Makoto.

 

* * *

 

Three more years pass before dancing becomes more than a pastime. They’re in elementary school, interacting with other children their age for the first time. Makoto is shy, but manages to make friends easily. Haru scares the other children away. He doesn’t want to be friends with them. He has Makoto. If he feels comfortable with Makoto, why would he need anyone else?

One afternoon, they’re playing at the park. Haru sits at the top of the slide, looking out across the park. It’s small and doesn’t have many facilities, but for two six-year-olds, it’s more than enough.

“Hey, Haru-chan,” Makoto calls out to him, climbing the ladder to the slide. “We should join the dance club together!”

They had heard their mothers talking about a dancing club earlier, though neither of them had talked about it at the time. Sure, they danced sometimes, but it wasn’t that interesting, was it?

“Nah, it’s too much trouble.”

“But you like to dance, don’t you?”

“Not that much.” Haru frowns as he slides downward, stepping off to let Makoto follow. “If you want to join, do it yourself.”

“Then I won’t join either.” Makoto sounds put out, and Haru wonders why he is so intent on this.

“Why not?”

Makoto looks at him, eyes wide with honesty. “Because there’s no point if you’re not with me!”

The answer puzzles Haru, but in the end, he relents. It would be too troublesome not to.

 

* * *

 

It’s only in the next January that they’re able to join up. The class is small and almost unrecognisable save for a couple of familiar faces. Added to that is the fact that most of the class is female. Haru, needless to say, feels out of his comfort zone.

Still, he is able to look his new classmates in the eyes as he listens to the club teacher introduce them. Makoto wrings his hands, looking down at his feet. Haru has to wonder why Makoto wanted to join if he’s this nervous.

“We have two new members of the Iwatobi Dance Group today,” the teacher says. “Nanase Haruka-kun and Tachibana Makoto-kun.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Makoto stutters, still looking down. Haru only nods his head briefly. Their class greet them cheerfully, as manners dictate.

At first, the class is completely different than they imagined. They spend the first half of the lesson learning about foot positions and walking properly. Then they learn some basic steps, though they don’t actually dance in that lesson. Haru wonders if this can really be called a dance lesson if they’re not even dancing.

On the way out, the receptionist offers them a keyring from a selection of marine animals. It doesn’t make sense, considering that this is a dance class, but they reach for the only dolphin keyring nonetheless.

“That’s our last one,” the receptionist apologises. “Maybe you could do rock-paper-scissors for it?”

Makoto shakes his head and pushes the dolphin charm toward Haru. “You can have it, Haru-chan. I prefer the clownfish, anyway.”

Years later, Haru still keeps that dolphin keyring, attached to his house key.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few months, they start to learn some basic dance moves. Their first dance is the waltz, which is mostly simple. The worst part, in Haru’s case, is that they have to work in partnerships, and that they can’t choose their partners. The teacher matches him up with a talkative girl with an unremarkable face. They don’t get along well.

Makoto gets on with his partner, but he still seems uncomfortable dancing. He often steps on his partner’s foot, always apologising profusely. He makes a lot of mistakes. The teachers wonder if he’s just a slow learner.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get it right,” Makoto says to Haru before a lesson. “I just keep stepping on her foot.”

Haru looks at Makoto for a second before sighing. He stands, dance shoes already on his feet. “I’ll teach you.”

Makoto looks up at him, eyes wide, then smiles. “Thanks, Haru-chan.”

“Drop the -chan.”

The two boys find a corner and take the basic hold, hands gripping each other’s forearms. Haru guides Makoto’s feet by dancing the girl’s part, not complaining when Makoto steps on his foot or makes a wrong step. Slowly, they manoeuvre through the routine.

In class that day, Makoto doesn’t mess up nearly as much.

 

* * *

 

They continue these solitary practises before class begins each day. Makoto finds them helpful in making sure he knows the right steps, but even Haru is beginning to enjoy them. He actually looks forward more to their practice than to dancing with his class partner.

One day, the teacher comes over to them as they are practising. She oversees their footwork for a while before kneeling to their level.

“Do you like practising together?” she asks.

The two boys nod.

“More than practising with your class partners?”

They nod again, Makoto a little more hesitantly.

The teacher smiles at them. “How about you practice together in class, today? I can find other partners for the girls.”

Makoto and Haru thank their teacher. Where Makoto is overjoyed, turning to Haru with a huge smile, Haru is quietly happy.

Class that day is more enjoyable to Haru than it has been for a while. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t have to put up with that annoying girl. Even though Makoto can be annoying at times, he’s still easier to deal with than she is. Besides, he enjoys Makoto’s company.

At the end of class, the teacher has a quiet discussion with their mothers before telling Haru and Makoto that they can practice together from now on.

Haru has the distinct feeling that he will enjoy practice more now.

 

* * *

 

Three years pass. At nine years old, Haru and Makoto still dance together. Sometimes people call them weird, but they don’t mind. Now they can dance more than just the waltz, though they both enjoy it more than any other dance. Not only was it their first, but it also has a relaxing and steady pace. It keeps flowing around the floor, calm and beautiful.

A new kid joins their class. He has blond hair and keeps looking at his feet. He’s the only other boy in their class.

Haru doesn’t pay much attention to him until the boy opens his shoe bag, revealing a pair of girls’ dance shoes. They’re glittery and have a small heel on them.

“Aahh!” the boy exclaims. “My shoes…there are girls’ shoes in my bag… These must be my sister’s…” The boy’s wide eyes begin to water. “They did this on purpose, I know it. Now I can’t dance… I hate dancing!”

As soon as Haru hears his final statement, something comes over him. He looks over to the boy. “How can you hate dancing over something like that?”

The boy looks over to him. “What?”

“If you’re that bothered, take mine.” He holds his shoes towards the boy.

“But what about you?”

Haru reaches over and takes the sparkling shoes from the boy’s weak grip. “I’ll use these.”

Dancing in girls’ shoes is difficult. Mostly because the shoes are a little too small, squishing his feet with each step. But seeing the boy - Nagisa - dancing comfortably in his shoes makes him feel better.

(Besides, these shoes give him another half-inch of height. In the battle of growth spurts, which he is currently losing to Makoto, every inch is essential.)

 

* * *

 

Another two years is all it takes for a new whirlwind to enter his life. At eleven years old, Haru still dances with Makoto. That is, until Rin storms in. With only a few words and a crafted smile, he manages to make Makoto dance with someone else for a change so he can dance with Haru.

Dancing with Rin is like dancing with fire. He doesn’t want to get too close, since he knows he’ll get burnt. That’s the type of person Rin is. Of all dances, he chooses the tango. Upright, formal and angry. Or at least, that’s how Haru dances it. Rin adds a new passion to the dance, a new staccato beat to every step. They dance well together.

Rin wraps them all around his finger. He draws them in with talk of seeing new sights and dancing with passion. He teaches Nagisa the quickstep, provides Makoto a partner in conversation, and charms Haru out of his shell. Suddenly, he leaves. He is an accented note in the midst of a song, forceful and strong. What he leaves behind is only the debris from what came before.

 

* * *

 

Haru gives up dancing. It happens at age twelve, halfway into his first year of middle school. He was dancing with Makoto again, until now. They say lightning doesn’t strike twice, but when it does, it strikes harder. The same goes for Rin. In and out with a single punch.

_“I quit. I’m giving up dancing.”_

Matsuoka Rin, once Japanese youth champion alongside his younger sister, quitting dancing. All because of Haru.

He doesn’t admit why. He doesn’t tell anyone, not even Makoto, the events of that day. All he does is quietly withdraw from the stage, exiting to the right.

Makoto also quits, a week after Haru.

“It’s not as fun anymore,” Makoto says as his excuse, and Haru feels even worse. Even Makoto - sweet and kind and caring Makoto, his dance partner - is quitting because of him.

He doesn’t know what happens to Nagisa. He doesn’t hear from him after that.

 

* * *

 

Four and a half years pass.

Haru still isn’t in a dance club. Neither is Makoto. Occasionally, Makoto sees Haru dancing in the kitchen, or in his room, when he’s idle and standing still is no longer appealing. Makoto doesn’t offer to dance with Haru, but Haru knows he practises. The silhouette of a figure in hold, viewed through a bedroom window, is proof enough.

Now in his second year of high school, Haru is sure things will continue like this.

Then Nagisa barges back into their lives, his grin wide and eyes bright.

“Let’s make a dance club!”

 

* * *

 

The first time he dances with Makoto again, something sparks within him. As soon as they move into hold, everything feels right. This is what he was missing, he realises. This warmth, this closeness, is what he lost for four years. How could he have taken for granted the constant, steady pace of his partner? Forgotten the feeling which made him dance in the first place?

Things have changed. Haru has long since lost against Makoto in the battle of height. Being the follower, however, doesn’t feel like a burden. It feels natural, dancing with Makoto as his lead. They move together in perfect harmony, not missing a beat despite missing a length of time. Though at first he wasn’t much interested in creating the dance club, now he’s back here, he can’t imagine leaving again.

This is where he belongs.

 

* * *

 

At seventeen years old, Haru isn’t interested in much. He spends most of his day in school or doing homework, or soaking in the bath. Either that, or at dance practice, one of the only things he is interested in.

Despite all that has happened - the drama with Rin, the guilt over having upset his friends - Haru can’t find it in himself to give up dancing. And his friends don’t want him to, either. It’s part of him, one of the only parts which he isn’t afraid to show.

And so he melts into position, fitting into Makoto’s arms without thinking about it. Left hand on his right shoulder, right hand clasped in his left. Back arched, a flower in a vase. The music begins, and a beat before their first step, they rise.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [randomactuallywrites-57](http://randomactuallywrites-57.tumblr.com) on tumblr | [@randomwriter57](http://twitter.com/randomwriter57) on twitter!


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